"I don't." Erik replied, finishing his stew. "There's never really been anyone. The feast will be good though." He added, leaning back to grab his spear from it's place in the snow. Setting it across his lap, he took a stone and started sharpening the flint. Attacking the stag its point had broken and it was no longer really sharp enough to be useful.
"Do you?" He asked, as the two of them sat working together by the fire.